From the Cutting Room Floor
by Heath07
Summary: Warning: May contain slash. A bunch of separate, non-connected, drabbles that never had a chance.
1. 1

Ratings: G--PG-13

Author: Heath07

Disclaimer: I don't own anything...

Warning: possible SLASH in some drabbles

Notes: Here are a collection of drabble-type things. Some have been cut from previous fics and some were started and I just didn't like them so I scrapped 'em... Just thought I'd put them out there so I wouldn't have to look at them anymore. lol

* * *

Ryan believed that you could never really know another person. Sure, their favourite colour, which side of the bed they preferred, if they liked their eggs scrambled or poached, those were doable, trivial things, but to actually know someone; to anticipate what they will say or do? Ryan never believed that was possible.

He was wrong.

He knows Seth.

Knows Seth the way he knows himself, the way a butterfly knows when to unravel from its cacoon, the way dogs and cats know when a storm is coming long before the weather channel ever issues a warning...

Ryan knows Seth like that; like he's never believed was possible.


	2. 2

Ryan had never thought of Anna as a vixen, he always thought that was supposed to be reserved for Summer, but there was something teasing in her eyes earlier in the day that made him think Seth hadn't been man enough to unleash the hellcat inside of her. An odd sense of pride mixed with guilt bubbled up inside him.

He closed his eyes to sleep and thoughts of Anna and Summer, naked and writhing, made his palm ache and his dick twitch.

His mouth felt dry and his skin felt hot. His hand inched inside his boxer shorts. He bit his lip too hard and felt blood on his tongue.

"Ryan?"

His eyes popped open.


	3. 3

Seth liked to play Jenga. He liked the possibility that at any moment one false move would cause the tower to topple, it was risky and fun. When he thought about it, Jenga was a good metaphor for life, because Ryan left and the world crumbled and all the blocks fell, but unlike Jenga there was nothing fun about it. He supposed that if they tried they could build some semblance of what had been again, but no matter how much he tried not all the pieces would be in the right place, he couldn't just construct everything to be as it once had been.


	4. 4

"I'm not going back."

Ryan shrugged, casually looking out at the water. "That's your choice."

"You're not here on some sort of recon mission?"

"No, not really."

"You're not going to drag me into your car kicking and screaming and bring me back to Newport?"

"Is that what you want?"

Seth hesitated, then, "no."

Ryan smirked. "You sure?"


	5. 5

There is one thought that floats in his head as water splashes against him and wind pushes him along. Ryan. He never gave him a proper good-bye, even though he noticed the tear in the other boy's eyes...the image is forever singed into the back of his mind. He pulls on a rope, straining his arm and blistering his palm. He sticks his hand into the undulating water and cools his fingers. He doesn't like to think about it. The day is young and he has a lot of water to cover before the sun goes down and thinking about things that he has no control over is not going to get him to Tahiti any faster.


	6. 6

Kirsten would not consider herself a patient person. She hated waiting. Waiting gave a person time to think, to dwell. She supposed that was why doctor offices had waiting rooms...

-

The first two weeks she took sleeping pills to get her through the night and that helped...for a little while. It might have been okay if it had only been Ryan that left, but with Seth gone too and Sandy pulling away... She only meant to drink one glass of wine just to help her relax, but one turned to two and two turned to a bottle... The memories came to the surface and she could feel the cold, sterile metal under her feet, the thick, scratchy paper nightgown on her skin, the uncomfortable pull. It hadn't hurt, not too much anyway... Not until later; later when she saw a mother holding her child at a stoplight and she lost it, sat it the car while people honked from behind and cried until her throat was hoarse and her tear ducts dry. She didn't know she could ever feel worse than she did then...she was wrong.

Kirsten poured herself another glass of Merlot and sat in the dark, alone. Waiting.


	7. Anna POV

Title: The things I remember

I don't particularly like first person POV so I don't know why I wrote this.

* * *

I've kissed a french boy under a bridge in a gondola in Venice, Italy.

I've stood in the rain with my clothes sticking to my thighs and chest and didn't care if anyone saw or if my make-up ran down my cheeks, staining my blouse.

I've watched the sun come up on the beach in Maui while holding the hand of a blind man and describing what I saw.

I've sat in a café in France and watched a couple reunite and another breakup while I sipped a latte and ate a croissant.

I've written poetry on my shoes and ankles on a train ride through Holland.

I've sat in the dark, cigarette smoke hanging in the air and the sound of silence and kissed Ryan Atwood.

These are the things I remember the most.


	8. 8

Summer was always watching him. Since Seth left she hadn't stopped watching. He felt her eyes on the back of his neck; felt her trying to penetrate his thoughts, until finally she broke and asked the question that had been burning in her eyes.

"You know why he did this don't you?" Her lips trembled just a little as the words left her mouth. He thought he saw her wipe away a tear from the corner of her dark eyes.

Ryan wasn't sure what his answer should be. He saw in her eyes that whatever he said would be wrong. She'd come up with an answer on her own. She knew why. They both did.


	9. 9

Zoo theories

Anna has a theory about Ryan. He's like an animal just released from a zoo and set back into the wild. All of a sudden he has all this freedom and he doesn't know quite what to do about it. He thinks maybe he's still locked in a cage and he can't have what he wants.

She doesn't know what Seth's problem is. Maybe he's happy because he's always been like one of those monkeys they let roam the parks and shit on your cars as you drive past.

She doesn't know when they're going to mate. But, it better be soon, because she's tired of Seth humping her leg.


	10. 10

This is actually how the Seth/Zach fic Skin started, but it didn't feel right so I switched perspectives.

* * *

"She's moved on. Stop torturing yourself and let her go," he whispers, his tongue dragging along your neck, his teeth sinking into your shoulder when you turn your head to the side, granting him access.

"Not torturing," you mumble, your hands fumbling with the zipper on his pants. He's wearing khakis. They seem so practical. As far as pants go, khakis have to be the most sensible pants on earth. They are pants made for water polo players that basked in all their tan, muscular glory. They are bland, boring pants. Not unlike Zach himself. But underneath, past his belt and navy blue boxer shorts, there is something far more interesting. "Just biding my time until I pack on that extra forty pounds of muscle and can finally kick your ass." Hand inside his boxer shorts, fingers wrapped around his erection, you squeeze and his head snaps back. Now, you're torturing.


End file.
